


there's a life that's worth the living

by seashadows



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Don't copy to another site, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Post-Canon, mentions of canon violence and medical experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seashadows/pseuds/seashadows
Summary: In retrospect, it was probably good that the hotel they found was a complete dump.The woman at the front desk barely batted an eyelid at the blood on their clothes and faces when she handed over their keys – looked outright bored, in fact. Joe could only guess that she was used to seeing far worse. If she only knew.(Alone together after the events of the movie, Nicky and Joe allow themselves the emotional breakdown and mutual comfort that they need.)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 252





	there's a life that's worth the living

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to jaskieris/Casey for beta-reading! The title comes from the song 'Santa Fe', from the Newsies musical soundtrack. 
> 
> God, I hope this isn't too cliche. :D

In retrospect, it was probably good that the hotel they found was a complete dump.

The woman at the front desk barely batted an eyelid at the blood on their clothes and faces when she handed over their keys – looked outright bored, in fact. Joe could only guess that she was used to seeing far worse. If she only knew.

Andy, Nile and Booker all had rooms to themselves - Joe knew if he let himself think about Booker too much, it would just lead to more shouting. They would deal with Booker when they dealt with him - sooner, Joe hoped, rather than later - but not now. Nile had already been through a lot in a very short time, and he didn't want to push her into shell-shock. Giving her her own space was probably a good idea. “Thank you,” he murmured to Andy when she gave him the key to his and Nicky’s room. “How much contact should I expect from you?” He cut his eyes towards Nicky, who was leaning against the counter. “I think we need…”

“Don’t worry,” Andy said, cutting him off before he had to elaborate. “It’ll be a quiet night.” There was exhaustion written in every line of her expression, the slump of her body, the disheveled state of her clothing. “You’ve all told me I should rest, haven’t you? So…” She shrugged. “I guess that’s what I’ll be doing.”

“Are you sure?” Nicky asked.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I’ll be fine.” Her hand landed on the spot on her abdomen where she’d been shot. Joe wondered if it still hurt, and how long it would; it had been so many years since he’d had to experience the pain of a wound that healed over days or weeks rather than seconds or minutes. “Get some sleep.”

Joe waved the key in Nicky’s direction, and they silently found their room together. “Shower?” he asked at the door.

Nicky shook his head. “I’m all right.”

That was a lie if Joe had ever heard one. He would swear that the circles under Nicky’s eyes were darker than usual, never mind his haunted expression. _“Nicolò_ .”

“Stop worrying,” said Nicky, and unlocked the door, then pushed it open. The smell of harsh bleach-based cleaning products wafted out. At least they’d cleaned, Joe reasoned, which was better than the alternative.

Joe put a hand on his shoulder, which tensed under his palm. “I’m not worrying,” he said. “I just thought you might be more comfortable.” The smears of blood on Nicky’s face had dried to a dead-looking red-brown color. He’d seen Nicky die a hundred times, a thousand times, but there were some parts of coming back to life afterwards that he didn’t think he would ever get used to. Seeing the tangible proof that either of them had died was one of them; he never could immunize himself against the sight of Nicky’s blood, not anymore.“Nicky, please.” The needle glinted in his mind’s eye, held high and then plunged deep. The cry Nicky had let out echoed in his ears.

Nicky closed his eyes, just for a second. It was long enough for Joe to divine his answer even before he spoke. “All right,” he said. “Just – a washcloth? Will that be all right?”

“That’s fine.” Joe squeezed his shoulder and followed him inside, locking the door securely behind them and trying to tamp down his instinctive panic response. Merrick was dead. Nile had made sure of that. No one would come after them, after him, after _Nicky._ “Take your shirt off,” he said as Nicky sat down on the rickety-looking bed. Nicky raised an eyebrow. “So I can clean you up. You know that’s not what I mean, _habib albi_.”

“I couldn’t be sure,” Nicky called after him. The teasing note in his voice loosened the knot of worry in Joe’s belly.

Joe found a washcloth in the bathroom and wet it under the tap, then squeezed it out and came back. He was gratified to find that Nicky had taken his shirt off as requested, and that his skin was as unmarked as always. It was ridiculous, he knew, but somewhere in the back of his mind he’d half-expected to see new punctures and scalpel marks from what those monsters had done to him. “Hold still,” he said, and reached for Nicky’s chin to hold it in place as he wiped carefully at the dried blood on his face.

The blood came off Nicky’s face and neck easily enough. Joe wiped gently at the stains while Nicky sat with his eyes closed, lashes long against his cheeks. When he reached forward to sponge off the blood on his abdomen, though, Nicky opened his eyes and reached forward to take his wrist. “You know that I’m all right,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry.”

“Worry?” Joe repeated, incredulous. “Nicky, I saw what they did to you.” _And I couldn’t do anything about it,_ he thought as a lump rose in his throat. “How could I not worry?”

Nicky’s grip on his wrist slowly loosened. “I had to watch you die over and over in that lab,” he said. “They cut into your _head_.” To say nothing of watching him die at the hands of an unmerciful guard, but if he thought about that too much, he suspected his mind wouldn’t recover.

“And yours.”

Nicky touched his forehead as if he’d only just realized he still had one. “And your stomach. You were cut completely open and I could do nothing.” He looked up, and his eyes shone wide and wet, his mouth and jaw set hard. “I’ll never forget it.”

Joe couldn’t take it any longer. “ _Ya amar_ ,” he said, “neither of us can forget.” He stifled a whimper and folded Nicky into a tight embrace, resting his chin on Nicky’s shoulder. “How can I help you?”

Nicky trembled in his arms. “This…this is a good start.” His hands landed on Joe’s back and began to rub in slow circles, one between his shoulder blades and the other on the dip lower down. “I wish I could take it all back, what they did to you,” he murmured into Joe’s ear. “What they did to us. I would have pulled out of those restraints and done the same to all of them if I could.”

“No, no,” said Joe, and hushed Nicky softly when he made a noise of protest. He couldn’t stand to see Nicky upset, not at himself. “Hey. I’m here. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Good,” Nicky said. “I would destroy that place for you a hundred times over.”

Joe laughed, and realized that his eyes were wet. “So would I,” he said, pulling away to wipe his face. The corners of Nicky’s eyes creased as he smiled at him. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not.” Nicky cupped his face in one hand, eyes suddenly serious. “Yusuf. _Yusuf_.”

“Nicky,” said Joe in turn. “Nicky, Nico, _Nicolò_.” The beloved names came out in a croon as his breath hiccupped in his chest. Now the tears were coming steadily. “I don’t ever want to let you go.”

“Then don’t,” said Nicky.

It was a challenge that Joe didn’t hesitate to take. Suddenly he and Nicky were in each other’s arms again, hugging tightly enough that he thought the breath might be squeezed out of his lungs. It didn’t matter; he could die in this embrace once or ten times or a hundred times over, and he would be satisfied as long as Nicky was the one holding him.

When he finally opened his eyes, the world through the window was fully dark and Nicolò was murmuring endearments – _tesoro, amore, gioia mia –_ against his neck. “ _Ya hayati_ ,” said Joe, and rested his hands on Nicky’s waist. “Did you want to stay?”

“Mm.” Nicky paused, then shook his head. “I feel sticky.”

Joe took a reluctant minute to disentangle himself. “I’m not surprised,” he said as he looked down. The blood on Nicky’s body had left stains on his already-soiled shirt. “It’ll take a shower to get everything off you, but if you’ll let me…” He found the damp cloth, now not so damp, and lifted it. “Do you want me to finish?”

In lieu of a verbal response, Nicky levered himself backwards on his elbows, one eyebrow raised as if to ask when he was going to get on with it already. “All right,” said Joe, amused.

He really did mean to clean him up, but the sight of the smear of blood between two of Nicky’s ribs abruptly changed his plans. The bright silver of the needle flashed in his mind’s eye again. “Nicolò,” he said, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to the smooth skin. 

“What are you doing?” Nicky asked.

“I’m kissing you wherever those sons of dogs hurt you,” said Joe, and pressed kisses along his left side, where he remembered a long cut that exposed his insides to the cold air of the lab. “No one will ever do that to you again as long as I live, do you hear me?” Kisses to Nicky’s hip, both arms, the breastbone where his heartbeat was strongest. “Never.”

Nicky’s chest jumped beneath his hands. “Yusuf,” he said, voice unsteady. “I want to…what about you? I had to watch you go through all of that, too.”

“You didn’t see _me_ get shot,” Joe countered.

“Everything but that,” Nicky said. Joe thought he heard a hint of his usual teasing in his voice. “Are you really going to deny me this?”

Joe sat up and pulled his shirt off. “No,” he answered. “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.”

Nicky leaned forward and gave Joe’s side a kiss, lips lingering warm and tender for a few seconds. “ _Grazie mille_ ,” he said, “ _cuore mio._ My heart. How many languages shall I say it in, Yusuf?” He pressed a kiss to a spot just above Joe’s collarbone. He didn’t remember anything happening to him there – it must have happened while he was passed out, he realized, while Nicky watched helplessly. “ _Mon coeur?_ ” he continued, kissing below Joe’s breastbone. “ _Habib albi_.”

Joe swallowed hard. “Now who’s the romantic?”

“Shhh.” Nicky held his chin and leaned in; Joe closed his eyes just as Nicky’s lips met his. _Tesoro mio_ , he thought he felt Nicky mouth against him, and he echoed the silent words. There was no greater treasure in the world to him than Nicolò di Genova, who nine hundred years ago would have gladly joined in anything Merrick or his goons wanted to do to Joe. How it all had changed.

His lips felt cold. Joe opened his eyes to the belated awareness that Nicky had stopped kissing him. “Oh,” he said, touching his mouth as he snorted a laugh. “I’m sorry if kissing me got you dirty. I think it’ll take a shower to get everything off us.”

“You couldn’t,” Nicky said, and stroked a thumb down one of Joe’s sideburns. “You may have a point about the shower, but I could never be dirty as long as you’re the one I’m kissing.”

“Cheesy,” said Joe, then shook his head and took Nicky’s hand just for the pleasure of knowing it was there. “What am I going to do with you, Nicolò?”

Nicky shrugged. “Live,” he said. “It’s what I plan to do, as long as you’re there.”

“Live,” Joe repeated. How could one simple word say so much? “For you, always.”

The smile he got in return was bright enough to blind, but he thought it might be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary of terms of endearment and such (as if the fandom needs it at this point, LOL)  
>  _Habib albi_ : love of my heart (Arabic)  
>  _Ya amar_ : my moon (Arabic)  
>  _Ya hayati_ : my life/love of my life (Arabic)  
>  _Tesoro_ : treasure (Italian)  
>  _Amore_ : love (Italian)  
>  _Gioia_ : joy (Italian)  
>  _Cuore mio_ : my heart (Italian)  
>  _Mon coeur_ : also 'my heart' (French)  
>  _Grazie mille_ : thank you very much (Italian) 
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr as godihatethisfreakingcat.


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